


Philza’s POV

by blue_skie_s



Series: its warm when im cared for, for once [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), DADZA P O G, Hurt/Comfort, Like, Other, Phil Watson-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), also wil’s death is mentioned, he has a cabin in a forest, in a memory, phil lives far away from the smp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:47:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28420101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_skie_s/pseuds/blue_skie_s
Summary: Brushing away a branch in the way, he’s met with a clearing that looks completely normal to him (and would probably look normal to anybody else who saw it) for a split second, until another sob comes from someone curled on the ground, shivering, with snow piling on their back and head as it drifts down from the greyed clouds above.(Phil’s POV during “It’s Cold Being Alone”)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: its warm when im cared for, for once [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080005
Comments: 25
Kudos: 537





	Philza’s POV

**Author's Note:**

> PHIL’S POV
> 
> DADZA P O G
> 
> also wow i got this out around a day after the first part of the series 👁👄👁

Phil’s footsteps crunch in the sheet of powder white snow, his wings pressed against himself and a thick cloak draped over his shoulders. He always enjoyed walks like these, where he got some time away from life and was able to simply be with himself for a while. His breath puffs in front of him, a small, misty cloud of air in front of his face.

The SMP was quite stressful, to be honest. All of the wars and fights were tiring to endure and listen to, and, holy _shit_ , the blood and gore. There was almost always some sort of conflict occurring on the server, whether it be a small sidewar or a huge, main, event-changing revolution ( _that’s what it’s been the past two times. They always either ended with bloodshed, betrayal, or someone’s death)._

God, he hated the moment he joined the server. He had _just_ gotten on, and then he’d almost immediately had to _murder his own_ **_son_ ** _._ It had hurt so bad, knowing that, at that point, he couldn’t have ever saved Wil from the deep hole he’d dug himself in at that point ( _maybe if he had gotten on a few days quicker…)_ . Phil couldn’t ever shake away his eldest son’s last moments alive. It was _painful_ to the point where he wanted it so desperately gone but it wouldn’t ever fully leave his mind.

_“Phil,_ **_kill me_ ** _. Kill me now, Phil, STAB ME WITH THE SWORD.”_

_Phil gapes at Wilbur, gaze flitting between the crumbled, ashy, and burning ruins of L’manburg from the hole in the wall, and the insane, crazy expression on his own son’s face. He only finds himself able to watch as Wilbur thrusts an enchanted diamond sword into his hands, continuing to ramble on with the same maddened look._

_“Kill me now— kill— Killza. KILLZA! Do it now, DO IT.”_

_Phil sighs shakily, glancing at the sword before looking back at Wilbur again._

_“Kill me— kill me Phil. LOOK, THEY ALL WANT YOU TO! Do it Phil, kill me,” Wilbur chants, staring into his eyes that practically bore into Phil’s soul as he stands there, frozen._

_“I— y— YOU’RE MY SON!” Phil cries out, gripping the handle of the sword tighter. “No matter what you— no matter what you do, I can’t—“_

_Wilbur grabs him firmly by the shoulders, cutting him off effectively and continuing to ramble. “Phil, this isn’t a— LOOK, LOOK! HOW MUCH WORK WENT INTO THIS, AND IT’S_ **_GONE!”_ ** _He points outside at the rubble, and Phil notices the small crowd staring at the scene going down from outside. He can see Tommy at the very front, mouth open in shock and eyes wide. “...do it, DO IT.”_

_Tears stream down Phil’s face as he hugs his son close, impaling the sword through Wilbur’s stomach reluctantly. There’s a smile on his son’s face as blood begins to dribble down his chin and stain his Pogtopia trenchcoat and the white shirt underneath, and he holds him tight to his chest, a quiet sob pulling itself out of his throat as one, single last puff of breath from his oldest child passes over his neck before Wilbur goes limp in his arms._

Phil shakes his head, wiping a stray tear away and moving onward. His first day on the server was quite unbearable to think of, filled with blood and fighting and _death_ . He had watched Techno spawn the withers. He had watched so much _violence_ go down right in front of him. He’d watched it all from the large 3-by-4 hole in the wall that his son had made with the TNT he’d placed under his own nation that Wilbur had ended up exploding in the end.

The subdued rustling of the leaves in the breeze brings him out of his thoughts, and he smiles as snow begins to fall onto his hat and wings. There’s the soft chatter of squirrels and rabbits, and other animals that live comfortably in the ( _quite large_ ) forest _._ There's also the scent of pinewood drifting into his nostrils, and the berry bushes littered around randomly along the path. Phil reaches over and plucks off one of the berries, popping it into his mouth and relishing in the sweet flavor that erupts from the fruit as he bites on it. He collects a couple handfuls to bring home for himself.

All of his thoughts of the “second war” were pushed to the back of his mind as he admired the calming scenery of the snow-covered forest that housed his cabin further in ( _or, in his case, behind him)_ , the trees, grass, _everything_ adorning a layer of cold, white, glittering packed-in snow, and the sun hovering high straight above him. Phil chuckles and holds his hand out, snowflakes falling and immediately melting on his warm palm. 

A comfortable silence washes over the area, and he lets his eyes shut for a moment to simply savor the lack of noise. 

_*sob*_

The moment he hears it, his eyes immediately snap back open, and he swerves his head around to look to the side, the direction the sound came from. _Who— who would even be_ **_out_ ** _here right now? He’s so far from the SMP, how in the world did someone make their way into the forest he resides in? Why is someone_ **_sobbing?_ **

Phil begins to walk into the forest off of the faint trail, straining his ears ever-so-slightly and glancing around with a hint of nervousness. He didn’t bring his armor or weapon with him, as he wouldn’t be out past night, so he was completely defenseless if this was some sort of setup, which worried him a good amount. Getting injured was not really in his list of things to do or his list of things he was okay with. He truly did not need any other issues affecting his existence. 

Brushing away a branch in the way, he’s met with a clearing that looks completely normal to him ( _and would probably look normal to anybody else who saw it)_ for a split second, until another sob comes from someone curled on the ground, shivering, with snow piling on their back and head as it drifts down from the greyed clouds above. He is able to fairly quickly identify said person as Dream from the signature green sweatshirt, but why he’s crying, let alone why he’s all the way out here, Phil’s not sure. All he truly sees is a child _suffering_.

He gasps, speed-walking over and kneeling down. Dream’s hands were going faintly blue at the tips, and his hands were aggressively tugging at his hair. Out of his peripheral, he also catches the sight of a couple splotches of blood on the blonde’s sleeves. Dream is also crying quite loudly. In the middle of a forest. _Really_ far from the SMP. Alone, too.

_Oh dear._

Phil brushes the snow off of Dream, tugging off his thick cloak and draping it over the younger. He adjusts the coat a couple times, covering as much of Dream as he can in an attempt to warm him up a tad bit after being out here in the cold for god knows how long ( _he also hovers a wing above to catch the falling snow, just to keep it off of the young server owner)._ Phil then carefully grips Dream’s wrists, pulling them away from the firm grip they had on the fluffy mop of hair growing from his scalp and rubbing the wrists gently. 

“It’s gonna be alright Dream… you’re gonna be okay…” he mumbles, staring down at the young adult ( _who still was so_ **_young_ ** _, no matter what anybody may think. He was human, and he was still just so very young...)._

He watches as Dream seems to finally notice the cloak over him, ( _how hadn’t the kid noticed it right away?)_ letting out another sob and curling into it. It breaks Phil’s heart to hear that noise, a choked cry that radiates a feeling of pure anguish and sadness. Phil places one of his palms onto Dream’s cheek, the other going up to softly brush hair away from Dream’s face. 

“Shh… calm down, buddy…” Phil whispers to the blonde, gazing down at Dream as he leans into his hand. He begins to rub Dream’s cheek delicately as he lets out yet another broken sob. He moves the hand brushing away Dream’s hair to button the coat around Dream’s neck, watching Dream’s face for any reaction ( _other than the sadness painted all over it currently_ ). He leaves the hand resting lightly on his back, rubbing a few circles into it.

“Dream… it’s gonna be okay, just breathe for me, okay? I’m here, bud…” he murmurs, wiping a few tears away from Dream’s face ( _the tears coming from Dream’s eyes are still freely falling, though, so it was moreso an act of comfort directed at the blonde)._

Dream’s eyes begin to blink open, and Phil gasps once again as his head turns ever-so-slightly, Dream’s gaze slowly meeting his own. His heart shatters further as Dream lets out yet another wail, leaning further into his hand. Phil gently wraps his arms around Dream’s shuddering form and pulls him up into a firm embrace, whispering quiet reassurance and soft mumbles into the blonde’s ear ( _Phil swears his heart keeps shattering every time the kid sobs)._

“Hey, hey, it’s okay… breath, Dream, alright?” Phil feels Dream hug him a bit closer, and Dream sobs again and Phil can also feel the blonde bury his head into his neck. He continues to rub Dream’s back, shifting his smoky gray wings to curl around Dream ( _he vaguely remembers hugging one of his sons like this in the past. He can’t think of who it was currently)_.

“Shh… I’m here…” he says, and he hears Dream hiccup and sniffle, and he exhales softly and simply continues to hold the younger boy. It’s almost a familiar scenario, other than the fact that it’s Dream he’s hugging, and not one of his sons looking for his comfort after a hard day of either work, fighting, stress, or possibly just a bad day in general. It sends a tide of nostalgia over him, throwing him back to the better times when his sons had their innocence. When his sons were carefree and happy, not worrying about war plans or betrayal. When his sons didn’t have to live through trauma of wars and near-death experiences. When his sons weren’t worried about losing all three of their lives and _permanently dying._

He _just barely_ hears Dream mutter out the word “ _warm_ ”, and a soft, fond smile finds its way onto his face as he glances at Dream with a look of parental love in his eyes. Phil moves his arms slightly, mentally counting to three before stumbling into a standing position and hoisting Dream into his arms, still holding him close to his chest ( _he was lighter than expected, which was most definitely worrying)_. He begins walking back to the “path”, humming a soft tune as he steps through the snow once again. Dream hugs him tighter a couple seconds later, and Phil, in turn, does the same, soft rambles beginning to spill from his lips as he starts to weave and tell stories to Dream.

Stories of his life, stories of his experiences, stories of his children and their paths to who they are today, stroies of the people inhabiting the SMP, stories telling the full history and the events of the SMP, stories of his own parents, stories of his adventures and his discoveries, stories of the things and people he’s encountered during his times in his hardcore worlds and his journies and his trips, stories of pure fiction and fantasy that are spun into a novel on the spot, stories of mythical beings and powerful gods and elementals with the powers to change every single being’s existence as a whole, stories of winding forests and neon plants and mutated beasts that roam through the maze of tall and thick forestry...

He speaks and speaks and continues speaking, paying attention to how Dream’s breathing evens out and slows as he drifts to sleep, and he _still_ continues to tell those stories to him, even as the sun lowers past what looked to be the 2 PM mark. Soon enough, though, Phil’s back on the path that leads to his home, and he smiles again, pausing for a moment. The trees rustle and sway in the breeze still, but they seem to be calmer, as do the rabbits and squirrels, the bushes and the wind, the bugs and the insects. Hell, even the snow had calmed, falling gently atop his bucket hat and Dream’s soft blonde hair. He looks at the sleeping server owner, a wave of pure fondness washing over him, and, if he’s being honest, in his head, he tells himself that he does indeed have a new son to look after as he begins to walk again, following the scratches in the bark of the trees as he begins to tell a story about a strong, ruthless warrior, a musician with a strong will and the power to lead, a beekeeper with a kind soul and peace etched into their goals, and a bold teen with a heart of gold and a loyalty larger than the ocean itself to the sleeping young adult cradled in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> HEY PLEASE HAND OVER YOUR CRITISISM (fuck idk how to spell BAHAHHSHCSJ) 🤲  
> i speedran making this i apologize, i didnt check over it much bc i have quite a bit of motivation now and i dont wanna lose it all from worrying LMAOOO
> 
> also this series is strictly platonic, im aiming for a father/son relationship between phil and dream bc im a sucker for it HAHAH


End file.
